Since when did kitsch become fashionable? Kitsch is a term used to describe art that is an inferior copy of an existing artistic style. Adjectives that are associated with kitsch are "pretentious", "trite", and "crass". It's not a nice label to have applied to your work. This is why it confuses me when an internet publication says of a CD that, "A little bit of kitsch is important," and that "Begin to Hope has enough of it (kitsch) to stand out". Are they seriously saying that music actually should be trite and crass? Roger Waters, look out!

Granted, the actual CD that this startling pronouncement applies to, Regina Spektor's "Begin to Hope", is pretty damn kitschy. The jury is still out on whether this is ironic or not (she did name her indie-label debut "Soviet Kitsch" after all), but we're getting to the stage now, what with The Fiery Furnaces and Franz Ferdinand taking up valuable radio air time, where even self-aware irony is getting old. An artist needs to have something pretty special to be able to overcome the limits imposed by straightjacketing themselves into this obnoxious style.

Does Regina Spektor have that? Well, she probably does, but it's only ever hinted at on "Begin to Hope", and the occasional decent moments on the album are never developed fully. Instead, we get some truly awful lyrics, attempts at sounding creative by recycling the same "other instruments" section as a thousand singer-songwriters before her, and some of the worst production that I've heard all years.

The most important trick in writing a new song is actually having something to write about. With Spektor's rather interesting and colourful life story up until this point, you would think that she'd have plenty of material to write. Instead, we're treated to lyrics that range from patent nonsense (A little bag of cocaine/A little bag of cocaine/So who's the girl wearing my dress?), to the repetitive (If I kiss you where it's sore/Will you feel better, better, better/Will you feel anything at all) to the downright stupid (On the radio/We heard November Rain/That solo's really long/But it's a pretty song/We listened to it twice/'Cause the DJ was asleep). It doesn't help, of course, that she doesn't have the strongest voice to start with, but using such hackneyed lyrics is basically unforgivable, no matter how well you can enunciate them.

That said, you might not be able to actually hear the inane babbling that passes for songwriting, seeing as the production is so poor here. Spektor can hardly be held responsible for this, but a lot of these songs sound like very rough demos that have been slapped together as placeholders, rather than finished songs. If I was being generous, I'd describe the production here as "minimalist", but a far more apt term would be "rushed", and it was rushed presumably to cash in on Spektor before her limelight fades.

Ultimately, and I mean no disrespect when I say this, the only reason that she has even got this far is because she happened to be in the right place at the right time. She's got all the credibility that comes from being from New York, from being fashionably ethnic, and for happening to specialise in a kitschy genre of music that's in fashion right now. If there's any consolation, it's to be found on Après Moi, where her classical piano training is finally allowed to blossom into a beautiful, if tense, piano song. With lyrics out of English, a time signature out of 4/4, and thundering pianos, it conclusively shows that while this album might not indicate it, Spektor has a lot of potential, and there is a great musician straining to grow beyond the stylistic boundaries that she has placed upon herself.